After a worship service, a mother with a fidgety seven-year-old boy told me how she finally got her son to sit still and be quiet.
About halfway through the sermon, she leaned over and whispered, "If you don't be quiet, the Pastor is going to lose his place and will have to start his sermon all over again."
A nun who worked for a local home health care agency was out making her rounds when she ran out of gas. As luck would have it there was a station just down the street. She walked to the station to borrow a can with enough gas to start the car and drive to the station for a fill up.
The attendant regretfully told her that the only can he owned had just been loaned out, but if she would care to wait he was sure it would be back shortly.
Since the nun was on the way to see a patient she decided not to wait and she walked back to her car. After looking through her car for something to carry to the station to fill with gas, she spotted a bedpan she was taking to the patient. Always resourceful, she carried it to the station, filled it with gasoline, and carried it back to her car.
As she was pouring the gas into the tank of her car, two men walked by. One of them turned to the other and said, "Now that's what I call faith!"
A deacon is in the hospital and his good friend, a preacher, goes to visit him. The preacher notices all the medical equipment attached to the deacon. He kneels by the bed. The deacon motions to a pad and pen on the nightstand. The preacher hands his friend the pad and pen, and the deacon begins to write. Suddenly, the deacon dies.
At his funeral, the preacher delivers the service. He says, "I was with him when he died, and as a matter of fact, I have his last thought in my coat pocket here." The preacher pulls out the paper and reads, "Please, get up. You're kneeling on my oxygen hose."
At a church in Mississippi, the pastor announced that their prison choir would be singing the following evening. I wasn't aware there was a prison in the vicinity, so I looked forward to hearing them.
The next evening, I was puzzled when members of the church approached the stage. Then the pastor introduced them.
"This is our prison choir," he said, "they're behind a few bars and always looking for the key."